Friday, July 14, 2017

It’s 60 degrees and raining – not very July-like – and so
today will be a good packing day. After our flurry of whipping the homestead
into a state of unrealistic tidiness for all the real estate photos, I may even
welcome the return of boxes everywhere.

Yesterday we
sat with the real estate lady and sorted through documents for a good portion
of the morning. I had on a more presentable pair of black shorts and a new-ish
tee shirt, now that I had a reprieve from the back-breaking work of shoveling
mulch, handwashing the green film from the shadier parts of our siding, and
vacuuming and scrubbing floors.

Before beginning the heavy paperwork, we settled at
the kitchen table with her iPad and viewed the photos she’d taken the previous
day. Our house, which is a fairly unpretentious place, gleamed invitingly in
the pictures. The kitchen beamed back at us, the dining room glowed, and light
ricocheted off the living room floor. The upstairs bedrooms somehow had gained
at least three feet in square footage and even the Pepto Bismol tile in the
guest bathroom wasn’t so bad.

A small frown
crossed the realtor’s forehead when the second bathroom popped into view.

“I’ve noticed
. . . see the tile there? The grout is a bit darker here.”

I’m sure
she’d reviewed all the photos before coming to see us, but as though the
thought had just occurred to her, she said, “You know what? If you could just
scrub that with a little bleach, I could re-take that before I go. Oh, and if
we put some of those beautiful tiger lilies you have on the counter it would
look terrific!”

It was
already a humid 85 degrees outside, but we need to sell this house.

I dug around
through my stripped kitchen cupboards, found something that could pass as a
vase, put on my sandals, and went outside. Pickings were a little lean so I
climbed the hill next to the house and clipped two tiger lilies and one day
lily, along with a few ferns.

My morning
shower was already proving to have been pointless. Perspiring, I left my
now-muddy sandals outside and carried the flowers and the vase upstairs.

I dug the
bottle of Clorox out from under the sink. Black shorts and a black and white
tee was not the best uniform for this job.

Hoping she
wouldn’t suddenly decide to come up and oversee my efforts, I stripped down to
my underwear and got to work.

Thursday, July 13, 2017

Thanks to the wild range of jobs I've held over the span of my life - waitress, ice cream scooper, CIA clerk, television production, hospital secretary, teacher - I've had a few experiences I might not have had otherwise.